2014.02.14 - Shake and Bake
Putin hopes the $50 billion games will enhance Russia's prestige. He has tightened security around Sochi, where Cossack militia patrol the streets. Interior Minister Vladimir Kolokoltsev told parliament that authorities were receiving "alarming information" and were working to eliminate leaders and members of armed groups. "There are simply no other ways to combat these inhuman monsters," he said. Security analysts say militants are unlikely to penetrate the layers of protection around Sochi but attacks cannot be ruled out, especially in nearby cities like Volgograd. "The special services can't prevent everything. There are many people who want to ruin the Sochi Olympics," said Sergey Goncharov, formerly a senior counter-insurgency official.'' Inhuman Monsters. Inhuman monsters? Cable will give them 'inhuman monsters'. In spades. Dagestan has been in Cable's sights for some time, the main reason only known truly to him. So many missions in those mountains... and now, the team is out of the mountains and in country itself. Sochi. The mission? Russia has, in the past, sent their Olympic athletes that are known mutants to a concentration camp in the Ukraine. With that one thrown wide open by the X-Men a year or so back, there are other, smaller ones springing open. Hidden from view but no less than what that large one was. There are now mutant athletes on all sides, and those in place on the Russian team were put there. Specifically. To gain information on the next moves of the Russian government in terms of the 'mutant question'.. and the stealing of assets in order to continue the push against them in order to bring about the future that some have claimed to have come from... A mutant-less world. An extinction of the race. (That's not to mention information on other movements...) "... so there you have it, my lovely followers. In honor of the winter Olympics, I've devised a hover-board that effectively makes all forms of athletic competition obsolete. Post your ideas for Forgeball in the comment section below." Forge points downward, for the camera. In his other hand, he holds a skateboard that he clearly got from either a thrift store or the dumpster. However, the quality of the board isn't especially pertinent, as the wheels have been removed in exchange for some small, round, downward-facing engines. Scientific progress goes 'boink.' "The winner gets to fly out to my condo in Aspen to go hover-boarding, or should I say 'Forgeboarding?...'" A wink at the camera "... with me, your handsome host. Since there are only fifteen of you guys, your odds are pretty good." There are plenty of ways to amuse oneself in Russia. Sights, sounds, what have you. But when you're a technology-obsessed introvert, you amuse yourself in Russia the same way you'd amuse yourself anywhere else: With a computer. He signs off from his latest post, during which he just detailed a device that would make anyone who was capable of understanding it a millionaire overnight. The post ended, he pours a bit more Johnny Walker into a half-empty can of Mountain Dew Code Red. Russia again. It's times like this that Domino is glad to be fluent in the language. And the local armaments. Securing herself an SVU for the trip is a simple matter, giving her a long range 'reach out and blow someone's face off' capability with an integral sound suppressor and flash hider as part of the all-inclusive package. Russian weapons and Russian calibers on Russian ground. They'd have fun figuring that one out. When in X, do as X-ians do. The white-ringed eye's peering through the optics along one of the many rooftops in the area. The black-ringed eye's comfortably perched behind the details on a thin, transparent HUD panel that's connected to an encrypted wireless headset and high-def camera, following her every movement with a slew of data which she either already knows about or flat-out ignores. Forge may rely on tech. For her, it's just another thing that's there if she needs it. Who needs to know the exact humidity in the air when she's got skill and luck behind the trigger? Point in the Tinker's favor, her Smart Armor's been adjusted to blend in very, very well with the rooftop she's lying upon. "How's about you close your Forgemouth and take a giant step back out of Forgeworld? Got activity three hundred twenty yards from your location. They're making with the Kalashnikovs. Feel free to whack 'em with your Forgeboard, unless you've got something better on your Forgebelt." It's..entirely possible that she's still bitter about him taking apart all of her guns yesterday. Or, maybe it's just another normal day in paradise. Hard to tell. Tabitha was decked out in the strangest cross-section of assorted clothes she could get a hold of, mixing animal furs with bikinis with canvas straps. Surprisingly, nobody in her elite team wanted to go shopping with her, and this is what you get when you leave Tabitha to her own devices. It took her a long fifty-six minutes to select a ridiculous outfit, which she called 'A Russian Outfit', much to the chagrin of a condescending shop keeper, who mostly just spent his time staring at her boobs. So much so that he somehow hadn't even noticed Tabitha stealing cash from his register. "It's show time!" was heard from the entrance of the room the four mutants were staying in. It was Boom-Boom, and she flung the door open wildly, smacking it against the interior wooden wall against inside the room. "Whatcha'll hobnobbers... ya hootenanny-makers... ya teetotalers.. up to?!" she announced, not actually knowing what a single one of those words meant while stepping inside the room, her walking style possibly mimicking someone from the old west. She expected to see everyone in the room waiting around for her to show up, but the room was empty. Ohhhh, yeah, she was late! Oops. Any that set their real names in that comment section 'below' will probably receive a visit from the newly revised GRU (for just such an occasion!). Only if their best hackers can get into it, that is. Undoubtedly (or hopefully?) such a thing won't come to pass. "Forge," it comes over the radio, and into where ever Forge may be holing up. Could be atop a building, could be in Hawaii.. or Aspen. "Could you... thank you, Domino." Cable is actually out and about, though he's got his telepathy running, blocking peoples' perception of him. Nothing to see here. Just a Russian judge... After all, he's a bit of an obvious mutant in an anti-mutant country. Now isn't the time to make that statement. "Forge, what do we have on the holding block? Empty?" Where they take people for questioning. "Dom.. if they're moving in, wait for mutant contact and the walk back. Forge can pull the CCTV file and we can have our man back with a story." Then she can pull the trigger and hopefully Boom can dispose of the body. He's the one on the ground to make sure the mutants compete. Everyone has a place... though he wouldn't be surprised if, by the end of the next few hours, that something gets exploded. By Forge, or Domino, or Boom. Or, given the circumstances, even him. The video over, Forge has propped his hover-board next to the wall and returned to his original task: Putting the finishing touches on his new Cleaning Robot. The process of building a robot in Domino's room has made the room even more of a disaster area. But, the alternative would be to actually clean up the mess himself, and he'd clearly much rather build a robot to do it, even if it takes longer. "Still don't know why she doesn't just use a phaser. No casings to pick up. No slugs left behind. Like murdering with pure science." But even though he's stuck back at the base for this mission, Forge is still very much with The Team in spirit. He takes a few seconds to look at the screen of his accordion-folding tablet. A few quick swipes, and he's got the answers. "All the prisoners in the holding block are accounted for, but two of the guards brought someone in a little over hours ago and immediately cut the camera feed to the Warden's office. I'm guessing whatever you're looking for on your mission thing is there." The only motion from that one rooftop is the chilly breeze tugging at the tangled mass of short-cut black hair, the albino behind the rifle's optics as still as the brick and mortar surrounding her. "Copy." Eyes forward. The camera perched above Dom's left ear is signaled by a thin, flexible strip that's stuck with double sided tape to the rifle's receiver, letting her nudge the zoom control with a thumb without having to disrupt her concentration. While the camera itself is no larger than a triple-A battery it zooms in for a digitally enhanced picture that's wonderfully crisp and full of detail. It's also recording the action below, just in case they could use some hard evidence of what's going on around here lately. Phasers use batteries, they're not as easily monitored nor anywhere near as satisfying to chamber. Still, she does have a couple of powered weapons! Which she's wisely chosen to keep hidden and not leave lying around back at HQ. Plasma bolts are harder for her to ricochet, too. The stock shifts against her shoulder slightly as she moves to follow the path the men take, watching as they branch out and surround one of the buildings before a smaller number of them force their way inside. "Showtime at street level, too. Looks like they've found something that doesn't agree with them. They'll be busy for the next three and a half minutes." Tabitha still wasn't used to all this talking in her ear, and momentarily considered the possibility that Cable, Domino, and Forge's voices were actually going on inside of her own head. But she tossed away that thought, because she wouldn't talk like that. She imagined what she would do, and held up her right hand and started flapping it, like a hand-puppet, imitating Cable's voice. "Regulate your points of transduction when coordinating your conditions with the target counterbalance!" Then she held up her left hand, and made her hand puppet imitation of Domino's voice. "Straight ahead, sixth-four marks past the red herring, we're going in! Cobra, Cobra! Checkpoint Dragon!" It was at this point that Boom-Boom realized that she'd been rambling these lines over the communicator. Awkward! "Alright, team. FULL STEAM AHEAD!" she shouted into the communicator, momentarily plucking it out of her ear and holding it in front of her mouth, then returning it to its position. With that, Boom-Boom turned around and rushed out of the building, and scanned for Domino. She was supposed to help her out, she thought she remembered. "Copy that, Forge." Cut the feed of the Warden's office. "Can you turn it back on?" Cable's moving now in the direction of Domino's sighting, however. He's still got the judge's illusion running, planting that easy suggestion in peoples' heads as they see him. And there are crowds here and there, so the large mutant has to pass around them and under the occasional wire through buildings. "On my way, Dom." Something or someone. Probably more the latter than the former. So, they'll take it by the numbers. "Boom, when you're done... we have contact. Wait for Dom's word that she's taken the shot, then come in." "Nah... I tried to reactivate it, but they figured out a way to thwart my prodigious hacking abilities." Forge looks at his monitor, apparently impressed Cut to interior view of the warden's office, where the cable to the video camera has been yanked out of the wall. "Whoever figured out how to obscure the feed, they've got some major skills. Be careful, there's a criminal mastermind at work here." Cut to interior view of the warden's office, in which two overweight guards are arm-wrestling. Another one is reading a Russian version of Hustler, which he's trying to hide with a Russian to English dictionary. "I wouldn't be surprised if they had holographic armor and laser cannons." Cut to interior view of the warden's office. The AK's are stacked up in a corner. One of the guards also has a pistol. "Keep your eyes peeled." The can of Mountain Dew Code Red is nearly empty, so Forge fills it back up with Jonny Walker. His Sitrep is rapidly becoming more scotch than soda. Domino has -no- idea what Tabitha is doing, besides mocking some of them over the coms. It's ..actually kind of funny. At least the first part is, she's figuring that's Nate getting made fun of. The second voice she finds to be slightly less humorous. Then there's the 'Full steam ahead!' getting shouted into her ear. Normally she's pretty damned unmovable. Normally she's also not getting shouted at unexpectedly over the com. With a sudden twitch her left hand's off of the rifle, wrenching the set clear off of her head with a hissed curse. In that moment the camera's zoomed all the way in on a pair of blacked out lips as she mouths 'Gonna strangle that girl,' getting recorded onto its internal memory. Her aim shifts, following Tabitha in her positively -ridiculous- looking getup rushing out onto the street. Looking up at the buildings. "Are you tryin' to blow my cover, Boom?" she hisses down into the mic, her expression hardening as she fights to get it back into place around her ears with just one hand. "Quit lookin' at the roofs! You're not -supposed- to see me, now go get your Checkpoint Dragon already!" (Unbelievable...) There--! There's another muttered "Sssshit" as she grabs the rifle and throws herself into a roll across the roof, hastily coming up to the other corner in order to get eyes back on the soldiers at ground level. Tabitha's outburst distracted her, she missed her first shooting window. Up come the sights, finger already on the trigger as she starts sweeping the narrow street with the magnified sight. "Target--there, back on eyes. Turning north for the alley. Range is hot." -Thip!- One armed Russian collapses into a twitching mess, the bullet passing through his head and neatly severing the spine of another man a short ways ahead of him. "Two for one special in Sochi today, kids. Hive's been stirred, get the ointment ready." The plan was starting to resurface in the tangled web of Tabitha Smith's mind as she gazed out onto the street, and she hurried herself into position: tucked behind a jankety, green, rusty old shipping container, about 120 feet from Domino's position. She squatted to obscure detection: arguably the first intelligent thing she'd done in the last three days. Then she started to get excited: this was her first REAL MISSION! With a TEAM! It kinda felt like her 6-year-old Christmas all over again. The one where her trailer park family got her a pony. Well, it was a plastic pony.. with three legs. But it was still special... until it felt in the grill. And she got grounded... it wasn't even her fault! It's not fair, mom... It's not fair!! Tabitha's flashback was interrupted by the sound of a body slumping to the ground! "Mr. Roger," she quips while sounding fake serious, and skitters along the ground to recover the body, quickly grabbing its arms and dragging it along the ground back to the shipping container she'd been hiding behind moments ago. Before reaching the return spot, she whispers into her communicator, "The eagle has landed, vector alpha delta." Problem is, Cable takes everything Forge says as truth mixed with over-exaggeration. Knowing the Russians, they tend towards old-world solutions, but in what order and magnitude? No clue. All he knows is that there's some truth in what Cable's saying. So translation: No, he can't get a feed. There are people in the building and their armoury is in there. One simply has to learn Forge-speak. "Keep your eyes peeled, and more soda in there next time." Nate exhales and shakes his head, hoping the facepalm doesn't have to make an appearance. It's the first shot taken by Domino that brings his thoughts back. Mission first. He knows its taken not by the results, but with the sound of Domino's voice. He allows himself a smile and starts his own part in all of this. Crowd control and breaking their guy out. As Nate moves, he allows the flicker of who he really is tinge on the periphery of GRU agents' vision. To look at him fully would be to see a respected judge who has all the paperwork and put there by the KGB. (Like they all are? Heh..) But to look away, it's like seeing one's worst nightmare. Slipping into the fortified building, Nate comes face to face with the 'reception' of the holding area... "I'm sending looped feeds to all the security monitors. You should be able to move around pretty much undetected, provided you're careful about taking out guards along the way. We're effectively ghosts inside the prison, at least as far as the recording equipment is concerned." Not bad for a guy who only spent about two minutes hacking into the system. Just imagine what he could do if he weren't drinking and building a robot at the same time. A robot that is starting to look suspiciously like Elly Mae Clampett. Hopefully it's as good at cleaning Domino's room as it is at wrasslin' critters. "And... aerial coverage is online. Try not to need it, but I can always send in a drone strike if it hits the fan." "By 'it' I mean 'the shit.'" (The eagle has landed, what--?) "Boom. Stop. Talking," Dom growls low into the mic. Knowing her luck, one of these days Boom's going to randomly say something that's actually going to affect their mission. As opposed to doing something that's going to affect their mission. Seriously, they can't win! At least Tabs is good at rapidly disposing of dead guys... (She's done this before.) There's Cable. Of course Forge isn't physically here, though for once she's not going to complain about that detail. This time he's got a proper reason to be staying at HQ. One of the Russkies gets the idea to look up, roughly tracing the path of the first bullet back to the rooftops. He's next to go down, the last moment of his life spent practically staring right down the rifle's scope without realizing it. "Boom, bring some noise. They're going to find me if I stay here." Suppressors are all fine and good, but every tick of the bodycount brings the attention of those yet remaining that much closer to her vantage point. "Implied details are implied, Forge. We get the message." Pause. A slightly concerned expression falls upon her face. "Those drones aren't packing arachnibombs, are they..?" This is what Tabitha said: "I thought you told me to stop talking!" But this is what was heard: *FFFFFFFSSSSSSSSSS BRACNG FWRKFHR BOOUMOBOOOOM WAHGRUGHB BOOOOOM-SHAKA-BOOOOOO-BORORMOROMRRO BOOOOOOM *BOOOOOOOOOM*! That was a rough translation of about ten explosions that Tabitha started whipping around the pathway, each exploding with a confusing display of inconsistent levels of force: some more like firecrackers, others more like car bombs. Coincidentally, one of them actually did blow up a car, and some of the guards quickly ducked from the massive release of heat on the quickly-erupting gas line. As the initial wave settled, and the guards panic set in, Tabitha whispered saucily over the mic: "Was that what you meant?" She snickered, wondering if she over did it. Nahhh. "Should we rendezvous with with The Terminator?" Tabitha then asked. Now there's the Forge Nate knows and trusts (even if he doesn't know he's currently hanging out in his girlfriend's room..). Looped feed. Works for him. The moment Nate is inside, a sidearm comes out and with a *phut*phut*, bullets are nestled in each of the guards braincases, and down they slump as if falling asleep at their desks... but for the pool of blood where their foreheads lie, making the official Olympic papers unreadable. Sliding past them, Nate's turning tumblers in the doors with PK, leaving the keys behind. When that next door opens, the sound of *BOOOM* causes the building to shake, and he hisses in a breath. Okay, maybe not the best of ideas... Now, he knows Putin will blame mutants, and with 'suspected mutants' being freed... damn. Time to try to spin this. AFTER. Down the hall Nate goes, then, and as he's opening doors, he gives each a lookover.. mutant. Mutant. Mutant. "Go." It's over his com, however, when Cable answers Boom's question, "Rendezvous at the set point." Which is out of Sochi. One doesn't meet while an area is burning! "Terminator? Did you.. I don't even know what that is." No matter. "Give me three, then get the hell out. Forge, keep the drone in the air for 15, then pull it out." "Terminator? If you think about it, Cable's got more of a John Connor thing going for him. Except for the muscles. And the robot parts. And the penchant for leaving missions with no surviving... fuck, he's basically the Terminator." Forge's computer monitor is now plastered with Wikipedia articles relating to Arnold Schwarzeneggar, while all of the 'mission stuff' has been compressed to a small corner of the screen. "I don't see anything here about kumquats though... so your analogy doesn't really hold up Boom-Boom." Forge continues to babble on for several minutes, pausing only to offer a half-hearted "Fifteen minutes. Got it." before going back to movie trivia. "But wait, if he's the T-101, would that make me... Skynet?" Domino thought she should have clarified. She wanted to believe that Tabitha would have known the difference between a distraction and a carpet bombing, she really did. She should have clarified. "I said bring -some- noise, not -all- of it!" the albino snaps while diving from one rooftop onto another. They may be far from silent at this point but she can make use of all of those snaps, pops, and kablams. The third shot is taken while standing right along the edge of another roof, smacking the guy down like she had just chucked a brick at the top of his head. That's when they decide to go loud, too. More than shouting and scrambling. Now they're shooting, and radioing for backup. They did have some military vehicles not too far away. Dom quickly ducks and rolls to cover behind some low chimneys, breath turning to vapor past her lips from the chill. "Heat's on, got an idea." They'll suspect mutant involvement, up until they happen to find residue from chemical explosions at the site. All she has to do..is set off some explosives. For once, a problem really can be solved by blowing up even more shit. "Boom, clear the zone! Cable, get our man out of there! Forge--Skynet--whatever the fuck, get your drone bombs ready! Locking coordinates now, we're going for a shake and bake!" Back to the edge of the rooftop, Dom shoulders the bullpup rifle and snaps the sights to three different locations, once more tapping on that taped-on control pad for the system to mark each target. Forge would have the coordinates in less than a second, faster than it takes her to dive back to cover as the remaining soldiers spot her and start raking the rooftop with autofire. It's a done deal, though. All that's left? Bombs away. Tabitha cracks up on the mic while high-tailing out of the zone as quickly as her little newly purchased Russian boots would let her, their leather tassels flipping and flapping every which way. "Shake and bake. I like that," Tabitha said with amusement. The next thing she saw, however, she didn't like: it was two military men, each with large guns-that-Tabitha-couldn't-possibly-identify, and they were just about to round the corner and see her. "Mercy-dicks," she yelps, and dives behind a nearby shed. She knew she didn't have much time, and tried to dart around the side of thier field of vision... failing miserably. The men lifted their rifles, expressions utterly befuddled by the young lady's outfit. "Ya got me!" she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "But what're ya gonna do about that bomb over there?!" she said, pointing just past them. They turned to look, and it was at that moment that Tabitha threw some time-bombs to where she'd pointed. She thought to herself: 'Heh, heh, heh... Self-fulfilling prophecy!' Then it occurred to her that it wouldn't hurt to disarm the guys with the guns, too, so she threw bombs at them. She didn't allow herself to bask in the glory of her made-ya-look escape tactic's success until after she'd spirited a quarter mile from the site. "I'm out!" Tabby shouted into her mic triumphantly. Cable is too busy, too invested in going forward to pull out. He's close to his destination, making the best effort to concentrate on what he's supposed to do as opposed to listening to Forge's rambling. But dammit, there might be something useful as it actually pertains to the mission at hand. "Forge. Later. Give me the feed on it later. Later. I promise I'll look at it." Sigh. Now, Nate begins to jog the hallway, stopping finally at one of the doors. He's got his teep on, and those minds within- It's the place. Unlocking the doors with TK, and flattening himself on the side of the wall, he 'pushes' the door open before revealing himself. By then, it's too late for those in the room with their mutant. Once again, the quiet *thwup*thwup* sound is heard, and the Russians begin to fall. Not a sound. "You.. with me. Now." Cable shows himself, and the judge, the 5'10" thin Russian judge grows to a height of 6'9" with the shock of white hair atop his head. The mutant doesn't need to be told twice... and starts to make his way out. "We'll deal with the rest. You'll be competing." In the next second, Nate is acknowledging Dom's call, and begins that jog out. "Copy, Dom.. we're on our way. Clear in 30. Mark." Out of the building and it's time to move.. at a slightly faster pace. (Can Cable really run?) "Nah... Skynet doesn't really work. That's an evil organization that built out of control robots. I'll have to think of something that's a bit more applicable to me." Forge continues to work on his Elly Mae Clampett Maid Robot so that she can fix the mess he left when he invaded a teammate's privacy and destroyed all her stuff. Bright green plasma blasts zip down from the sky, leaving massive amounts of devastation in their wake. The good news is that the targets are super dead. Good luck finding any body parts to identify. "Skynet didn't really place any value on human life saw it as more of a nuisance. Oh shit, you missed one Chalky." Another flash of green light, and another Russian disappears. "We ought to just level the whole prison, honestly. I can leave some robot parts behind, then there's no way they'll think it was mutants." Okay, his moral compass might be pointing a bit to the west, but he makes a good point. Category:Log